The days are slowly setting in on me. The hours are drenching my clothes and seeping through my skin. I can’t get away; no matter how hard I try or what I do, sleep still evades me. Without dreaming the world has turned and left me. Sleep has avoided me for so long; sometimes I can’t tell the differences between my fantasies and the waking world. With Insomnia, you don’t sleep, but you’re never awake. Voices drift, sounds drum on longer then they should, visions are unfocused and hazy. I can’t stand it. I wish for it to end.
It’s the end of the year or a new beginning of another. I guess it depends on the way you want to look at it. Gosh, I’m turning into a pessimist. I’m sitting in the living room, watching the big New Year ball drop on the television. People are chanting “10! 9! 8! 7!” My parents and a few of their friends join in. “6! 5! 4!” And so does my little sister, Kristen. “3! 2! 1! Happy New Year!” Noise makers go off, confetti shoots up in the air, silly string sprays the television, and I sit on the couch, blanket wrapped around me and I yawn.
“Tired, honey?” My mother rubs my shoulder.
“I’m fine.” I answer. I’m always tired. For once, it’s almost comforting to know that the rest of the world is awake with me, celebrating the New Year. But, once our guests leave, Kristen goes off in her room to sleep, and my parents do the same, I realize its back to the way it was before. Alone for another night, watch the sunrise and join the living again in the morning without a wink of sleep.
Some people struggle to stay awake to see a sunrise. I wonder why. It’s nothing special, really. The dark fades with a hue of orange lighting up the sky and a giant white ball peeks over the horizon and rises higher in the sky as the day grows older. Maybe I’ve seen so many sunrises since I’ve acquired Insomnia; I’ve grown used to them, no longer awed by its splendor.
Sunrises grow older, advance, improve. I favor sunsets. They die down, wilt… fade. I wish I could fade, just like a sunset.
As I lay in my bed, wishing for all these things, I know they can’t come true. I don’t have a magic lamp or a genie. My shooting stars always fail me. My loose eyelashes deceive me and my birthday candles never work out the way I want them to. But how I long to dream, to become unconscious. At least in my dreams wishes can come true and my worries find refuge and avoid me.
I wish I could become something great. I wish I could escape my worries, my waking nightmares. I wish I could go into my own world… and never come back.
Other blogs you may enjoy:
Undiscovered Land (the artist’s other blog)